


FIC: Best Laid Plans

by jagnikjen



Series: Seasons of Love [1]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-08
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jagnikjen/pseuds/jagnikjen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin and Marian plan to spend the day together. Thunder, lightning, and sex ensues. Mostly a PWP concept</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Best Laid Plans, Part One**

“Here you go, lads. And _lasses_ ,” Robin said offering a smile and nod to Djaq as he handed out a handful of crowns to each member of the gang. “Have fun, and see you no later than sun-up day after tomorrow.”

“And what are your plans, Robin?” asked Djaq with her lyrical voice and a knowing smile.

“I’m going to stay out of trouble, as I expect all of you to do,” he replied, not answering Djaq’s silent question. “Now go on, before the day’s too much wasted.”

“Good-bye, Robin,” said Much, fighting a smile and losing.

“Much.” Robin nodded. Ah, dear Much was in love. What a relief to have him focus his thoughts and attention on another person for a while. Some days, Robin felt smothered.

“Robin,” gruffed John with a single nod as he too headed out of the camp.

“John,” Robin replied. John remained closed-mouthed about his destination. But it really wasn't any of Robin’s business so he didn't pry.

“See you later,” Djaq said with a wave of her fingers as she headed for the road with Will right behind her.

“Bye Djaq, Will.” Robin smiled after the lovebirds. He'd been unsure of the wisdom of the two of them exploring their feelings for one another. Romantic feelings amongst members of the gang could have all kinds of repercussions. But Allan had graciously accepted that Djaq had chosen Will, and there had been no lingering resentments that Robin had sensed. And Djaq and Will deserved a lot of credit for not allowing their personal feelings to affect the job to be done, even when the other was in danger.

Speaking of Allan he leaned against a tree.

“I think I’ll stay and keep you company,” he said.

Robin hadn’t quite figured the other man out. But he wasn't about to do it now. He had plans. With Marian. And, come hell or high water, they would be realized.

“No.” Robin shook his head. “The point of these little holidays is to get away from one another. To keep company with others. Now go. Go to Darby or Newark or wherever. You have enough money to get a room, a good meal and some ale, or even a woman if that’s how you want to spend it. But you’re not staying here. Get out of the forest for a while.”

“What about you?” asked Allan, his brow arcing over one bright blue eye.

“I’ve got my own plans, so go on,” Robin said, although he was staying close to home; very close.

Allan pushed off the tree with his shoulder. “Yeah, all right then. See ya.” With a wave, Allan headed toward the North Road as well.

_Finally._ Robin tidied up the camp, putting away the foodstuffs and other random brick-a-brack. For such a mismatched lot of outlaws, they'd acquired quite a bit of stuff.

Gathering up his quiver and bow and a small bundle, he set out just in case Allan kept watch. Heading to Locksley, he dropped in on Matilda who was currently entertaining Djaq and Will. Djaq and Matilda liked to exchange medicinal knowledge, and Will always fixed what needed repair in Matilda’s cottage in exchange for his and Djaq’s meals and a bed.

By the time he’d chatted with Matilda for a few minutes and took care of his business, the sun was almost down. Robin went on to Bonchurch and cleaned up the small lodge, left the food bundle, and prepared a fire in the hearth. Much was in search of Eve and would bring her back to his future home. It was the least Robin could do in exchange for all that Much had done for him over the years. Robin just hoped Much had remembered to make his own stop at Matilda’s for protection.

That done, Robin slipped out a rear window and into the trees. If Allan were tracking him, Allan would think him still inside Bonchurch Lodge for a time.

The sun was gone and the moon not yet showing itself. Robin’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, but he knew this forest well. He knew it as well as he knew his own mind. He’d spent many a day as a boy hiding from his father and from Much in this forest. He’d mapped just about every tree, every ravine, every hollowed-out log. There were still places he had not yet revealed to the gang; and he wouldn’t unless it became absolutely necessary for their safety. A man had to have a few secrets.

Tomorrow would be a good day; time spent with the woman he loved. He’d had his fill of places beyond home, as had Much, he knew. That’s why neither of them strayed too far afield these days.

Robin reached one of his secret havens just as the moon appeared on the horizon, a bright white sphere on the edge of the world. It was nearing the end of spring but still chilly overnight. He pulled a cape around himself and settled down for the night.

The day dawned gray, but that wasn’t too unusual for late spring and Robin wasn’t overly worried. Yesterday had begun the same way, and, by midday, the sun had burned off the cloud cover.

He whistled as he approached the large oak tree on the western edge of the forest. A few moments later, he heard Marian’s answering call and waited.

She broke through the foliage and into the small and rushed into his arms. He swung her around and took her mouth in a heated kiss, which she returned with equal fervor. Desire flowed through him, warming him all over.

“Mmm...I’ve missed you,” she said as the kiss ended, her voice a bit breathy. Her eyes glowed with affection and anticipation.

“And I’ve missed you. I’ve been looking forward to today.” He admired the shiny waves of her hair and her rosy cheeks and the form-fitting gown she wore: a long-sleeved cream-colored dress covered with small blue flowers that brightened the blue of her eyes. He could drown in those eyes.

“Where is everyone else then?” she asked, peering into the trees as if expecting the gang to step out from behind a tree and join them.

“Not sure about John, but I suspect he’s gone to visit Little Little John. Sent Allan toward Darby and a pint. Much and Eve will be playing house at Bonchurch.”

Marian’s brow rose. “Eve? I thought we didn’t trust her.”

“Ah, well, she has a thing for Much and he for her. I don’t think they’ll be doing much plotting to overtake the camp or anything.” Robin shrugged, but waggled his brows. “But I wouldn’t mind playing house myself....”

Marian flushed slightly but asked, “And why don’t we then?”

“Well, if I had a house, we would. As it is, all we have is a forest, so that will have to do. Now come on. We have the whole day to spend together. I'll show you around Sherwood, and then we can go back to the camp...it will be deserted,” he said with a wink.

She smiled and nodded. “All right. I should like to see it. To see where you live, where you eat and where you...sleep.” Another blush colored her cheeks.

Robin's blood sped through his veins. They were going to consummate their relationship. It had been her idea, and he had fought against it, but her arguments had worn him down. And he was tired of fighting his own desire.

Hand-in-hand, they wandered the forest, stopping every now and again to share a fervent kiss. Robin showed Marian all of his favorite perches and hideouts even as he kept an eye on the sky. The clouds hadn't gone away and, in fact, the day remained cool and the clouds thickened. No matter…as long as it didn't rain. He could build a fire in the camp and they'd be plenty warm, even if they were stark naked.

Just then, a long loud rumble of thunder rolled across the sky and was quickly followed by a couple of flashes of lightning.

Luckily, they weren't too far from one of the gang's many hideouts: a huge hollowed out oak tree. Robin tugged Marian toward it. “Well, we don’t see this every day here in Sherwood Forest or in England, for that matter.”

The sky opened up just as they ducked inside. The tree was large enough for the whole gang to squeeze into, so with just him and Marian, it was quite roomy. Roomy enough for lovemaking if needs be. But no. When they made love he wanted comfort and light. When they made love, he wanted to see her… see the lush curves and gentle valleys of her form and the look in her eyes as she achieved release for the first time.

Robin settled into a hollow at the backside of the trunk and pulled Marian into his arms, her hands twining about his neck, her body flush against him, face upturned and smiling. Desire settled deep in his belly. “I knew there was a reason I liked rain, but it shouldn’t last too long. We’ll be fine here,” he murmured before slanting his mouth across hers in another heated kiss.

Their mouths remained connected in long, slow kisses; one kiss melted into the next and the next and the next. Breathing hitched and shallowed. Hands wandered.

As soon as the rain let up, they were going straight back to the camp. Neither of them could be more ready at this point. He'd build a fire, drag his bedding close, and―

A huge crack of lightning startled them apart and a loud boom of thunder followed.

“I don't think this storm is going to let up any time soon,” Marian said a bit breathless, both from surprise and their previous activity.

Lightning flashed through the trees, illuminating Marian’s dazed face.

“I think you're right.” Robin moved to the opening and looked out into the pouring rain. “And we can't stay here. With all that lightning, it's not safe.” His desire dampened as the cold swirled into the small space. Disappointment took its place. The continued rain meant no fire, no light, and no heat. And while his bed would be dry, it would be cold. Too cold for any kind of―

Another crack and flash of lightning was followed by a roar of thunder.

They both jumped again.

He peered out into the darkening gloom and the rain. “We can’t stay here all afternoon, then. It's too dangerous with the lightning.”

Marian joined him at the opening. “We can go to Knighton, although my father will be there.”

Which definitely meant no love making. Robin shook his head. “It’s too far. Locksley is closest. Thornton will help us.” Perhaps there was an empty cottage they could hole up in. Hmm…maybe this thunderstorm wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Coming out of the protective shelter of the large tree, they hurried to Locksley with as much speed as they could muster in the pouring down rain and the resulting mud. By the time they arrived, they were both soaked to the skin.

Marian shivered, her gown drenched and clinging to her and outlining every luscious curve. She hugged herself for warmth, but her body’s reaction to the cold was quite distracting.

Robin pushed away his appreciation for her form for the moment. He couldn’t have her taking ill. He needed her warm and dry first, and he was feeling a little chilled himself.

Robin knocked on the door of Thornton’s private cottage. The smoke emanating from the chimney should mean he was home rather than at the manor.

Marian huddled out of sight to the left of the door, the cold making her teeth chatter.

A moment later, Thornton pulled open the door. “Master Robin,” he said, quite surprised. He stepped aside, pulling the door open wider. “Come in.”

Robin took a single step forward. “Can you help me, Thornton?”

Continued in part two...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin and Marian plan to spend the day together. Thunder, lightning, and sex ensues. Mostly a PWP concept

**Best Laid Plans, Part Two**

Despite Gisborne’s temporary ownership of Robin’s lands, Thornton remained loyal to his former master. He’d proven it time and again.

“Of course, Master Robin, if it is in my power to do so.”

“As you can see, I’m drenched.” Robin held his arms akimbo for a moment and rain dripped from his sleeves and shaggy hair.

“Well, if it is dry clothes you need, milor--”

“And, actually, it’s not just me.” Robin took a step back out the door and then tugged Marian forward just a bit, but still shielded her sodden and clinging clothing from Thornton's view.

“Th-Thornton,” she said softly with a nod, her dark hair plastered to her head and sopping wet.

“We need someplace to sit out the storm,” said Robin. “Locksley was closest.”

Thornton’s brows met over his nose, but he remained silent for several long moments.

What was going through the man’s mind? Robin held his breath for what seemed an age before Thornton finally nodded.

Robin and Marian stepped further into the room, closing the door behind them.  Heat engulfed Robin, and he shuddered one last time as the warmth permeated his clothes and his body.

Thornton’s cottage was a good size, about as big as the common room in Locksley Manor, with the hearth dividing the space into two areas: the large main room and a smaller sleeping chamber. Opposite the door, along the wall was a section of shelving where Thornton now stood digging through piles of linens before handing each of them a large expanse of toweling and a soft sleep gown. Marian immediately wrapped the toweling around her shoulders and stepped closer to the crackling fire. She sighed.

Thornton moved toward the door. “There’s food in the larder. I’ll just go on to the manor and find something to do. Sir Guy is at the castle so it should be quiet. I'll keep Cook company for a while, and I’ll, ahh...come back to make sure you have everything you need.”

“We hate to put you out, Thornton. Perhaps there’s an empty cottage where we could shelter instead?” Marian suggested.

Thornton looked at her, speculation written all over his face. “I don’t think that would be wise, milady. Someone might get suspicious if smoke starts drifting from the smoke hole.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding, but looking faintly disappointed.

Robin looked down at the floor to hide his grin. She wasn’t going to be a shy one and Robin could hardly wait. But wait he must.

“No worries. I am always popping over to the manor,” Thornton said. “No one will think anything of it.”

“I shall never forget this, Thornton,” said Robin. When he was reinstated as lord of this manor, he’d see to it that Thornton was rewarded handsomely.

“Nor will I,” added Marian, with a small smile.

“Yes, well...Master Robin?” Thornton stepped toward the door.

Robin followed him. “What is it, Thornton?”

The older man cleared his throat a bit and leaned in. “Is it wise for you and Lady Marian to be alone?”

Ah... the crux of Thornton’s earlier hesitance. Or perhaps he’d sensed the fire and the feelings between them. Robin fought a smile, but lost. He glanced at Marian who was staring into the fire and blotting her hair with the toweling. “No, Thornton. It is most certainly not wise at all. But we shall be fine.” Robin winked at Thornton.

Thornton nodded, although he still wore a frown.

“And I know I can count on you to be discreet,” Robin added quietly.

“It goes without saying, Master Robin,” he said sniffing, apparently hurt by Robin's doubt.

“I'm sorry, Thornton. But I had to make sure―for Marian's sake.”

“Of course,” he said with a single nod and then disappeared into the wet gloom, leaving a rush of cool air behind him.

Before the door latched completely, Marian was pressed against Robin. The desire between them flared again easily and quickly. She looked into his eyes, startled by their intensity―the color of the churning sky. He rained kisses along her jaw and down her neck until he reached her wet gown.

“Perhaps it is time to get out these wet things so they and we can dry," he suggested with a smirk.

“Surely you don’t expect me to undress right here?” she asked, although the notion had a certain daring appeal. She shivered, although whether from the possibilities or from being cold, she did not know.

He grinned and said, “Only if you want to chance Thornton returning and seeing you.”

“I do not think so…” she said, grinning back.

“Then just step around the hearth to Thornton’s sleeping chamber. It will be warm, and you’ll be safe from any unexpected visitors.”

Marian’s gaze traveled in the direction Robin indicated and nodded.

“I’ll change on this side, so warn me before you come back or you might catch me en flagrant délit.” He waggled his brows and flashed her another cheeky grin.

One that sent her heart soaring and piqued her curiosity. She wouldn’t mind catching a glimpse of that which she frequently felt pressing into her during their heated embraces. Like today in the tree before the storm took a turn for the worse. She'd felt it a time or two before that, but they'd never done anything about it. Glad he couldn't tell she was blushing in the orange-toned semi-gloom, she disappeared around the hearth.

She made quick work of the lacings on her gown and pulled it over her head. Her thin linen under-dress was also wet, and she debated on whether or not to remove it. Well, in for a penny in for a pound, and off it came.

A long low rumble of thunder rolled across the heavens, pulling her gaze upward. A sharp crack of lightning followed, making her jump. She was already jittery with anticipation.

Toweling her hair as dry as best she could, she let the heat from the backside of the hearth warm her flesh. It was quite stimulating to be standing here completely bare with Robin just a step or two away―and probably in a similar state. Her breasts puckered in response and she looked down at them, a rush of heat, having little to do with the fire, scorched her cheeks.

She grabbed the nightdress and pulled it over her head. The sleeves hung past her hands, and she folded them up several times. The hem of the gown pooled along the floor, but there was little help for that.

“Robin? Are you covered?” she called, gathering up her wet clothing in one hand and a handful of the nightgown in the other.

“Aye.”

She stepped back around the hearth, her eyes searching him out. She gasped.

He grinned.

Nervous excitement flowed through her and settled low in her belly.

Firelight gilded his chest and upper arms. The length of toweling was wrapped around his narrow waist and barely reached his knees. Her fingers curled into her sodden pile of clothes with the itch to touch him, to feel his understated strength and his heat.

Taking a deep breath, Marian moved around the table to the cording pulled taut along the end of the room and hung her stockings, under-dress, and gown over it next to Robin’s breeches, stockings, and tunics. The intimacy of the scene didn’t escape her.

_I wouldn’t mind playing house myself...._

Robin’s words came back to her and her stomach fluttered. She turned around, but stayed where she was, with the length of the table between them.

“Why are you not wearing the sleeping gown Thornton gave you?” she asked.

“Me--wear a dress?” he scoffed, bemusedly, although his eyes burned as his gaze tried to inspect her body under the shapeless fabric.

She felt his look as surely as if he'd touched her. Her breasts tightened and an unfamiliar excitement tingled at the juncture of her legs.

She took a breath. “’Tis not a dress,” she said, crossing her arms over herself to hide her body.

His eyes met hers, and her breath caught.

“Do not hide from me, Marian,” he said, his voice low, its timbre sending a shiver through her.

She forced herself to drop her arms back to her sides, grabbing handfuls of fabric to still her trembling. Fire licked at her feet and swirled around her lower legs. Her brain went a bit muzzy and she bit her lip to clear the haze.

And she looked back. He had little hair on his upper body; just a triangle-shaped smattering of dark hair just below his neck and down the center of his chest and a handful of hairs surrounded each masculine nipple.

The ugly-looking scar just to the side of his left nipple and below his arm pit was a reminder of his loyalty to a man who, quite frankly, seemed to have lost sight of his purpose and his subjects.

But Marian pushed aside the dark thoughts. King Richard mattered to her not at all at this very moment. It was just her and Robin and the storm raging both inside and out. She licked her bottom lip, the action catching Robin’s attention. He stared at her mouth for quite some time.

Marian swallowed. A curious pressure settled in her womanhood. A sensation that made her fidgety and anxious and anticipatory. The air was thick with the growing desire between them. Surely, Robin felt it, too. Wanted to do something about it. Back in the forest, inside the tree, she'd felt his manhood cradled between them. They would have been back at the camp by now and making love if the storm had not arrived.

Then just like that, he shook his head and broke his own trance.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, turning toward Thornton’s small larder to the left of the hearth. “There’s some bread and cheese.”

“No,” she said. She did not want or need food. She wanted Robin and she wanted to know the mysteries of the marriage bed.

Robin turned and looked at her across the table. His eyes locked onto hers and his nostrils flared.

He wanted her, too. It was in his eyes.

Desire and need swirled between them, connecting them, drawing them together.

Marian took a step toward him.

A light knock sounded at the door, making them both jump.

“Mercy,” she said in frustration, turning away from the door. She crossed her arms again and schooled her features.

Robin grabbed the sleeping gown and yanked it over his head. “Co―” His voice caught and he swallowed. “Come in,” he called again. The nightgown swished around his ankles as the door creaked open.

Thornton stepped in, holding up a pitcher. “I brought some ale,” he offered, a bit too jovially as he looked between them.

Robin glanced at Thornton, annoyance giving way to affection, but the steward was looking at her and missed it.

She was annoyed by the interruption as well. Not that she blamed Thornton. He was just trying to protect her. Protect them both, really. At least they were physically separated when the older man had entered. She smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Thornton. How very thoughtful of you.”

“Yes, well...” He set the pitcher on the table and looked from one to the other again. Apparently satisfied that all was as it should be and not as he feared. He gave a barely perceptible nod and said, “Is there anything else, milord, milady?”

Robin shook his head. “No, thank you,” he said, his voice now tainted with irritation. He cast a vexed glance at Marian before turning toward the fire.

A glance that Thornton caught and his eyebrow rose as he turned to look at her.

She frowned in confusion.

What had just happened? A moment ago, Robin had looked at her like he wanted to take her right then and there, and now he was mad about something? Men. She huffed. But it wasn't Thornton's fault.

“You’ve been very gracious, Thornton,” said Marian, giving him a kind smile that she most certainly did not feel.

Thornton nodded at Marian. “My pleasure, Lady Marian. I’ll take my leave....” He shot one last glance at Robin, the look of worry easing. He left with barely a sound and a cold swirl of moist air.

“What have I done of a sudden that you are now angry with me?” she demanded as thunder rolled loudly overhead.

“Nothing,” he said, moving toward her like a cat after a mouse.

“Nothing?” She shook her head. Then she noted the amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Ah...just a clever ru--”

His mouth was on hers, insistent and demanding, and she opened to him immediately.  The kiss matched the intensity of the storm now raging outside; powerful and fierce, it left Marian no breath but his. His hands trailed fire as they roamed her back and cupped her backside, pulling her flush against him. A moan escaped her.

She'd wished for this day for ever so long. And now...now it was here.

Continued in chapter three...


	3. FIC: Best Laid Plans, Part 3 of 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin and Marian plan to spend the day together. Thunder, lightning, and sex ensues. Mostly a PWP concept

**Best Laid Plans, Part Three**

“Marian,” he groaned into her neck, low and pleading. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver through her.

His toweling slid to the floor and his manhood pushed against her through the two thin layers of cloth that separated his skin from hers. Mercy, it was so hard.... He lifted her, his hardness pressing against her belly, and set her on the table.

The pitcher of ale wobbled behind her. Robin grabbed it and set it on the chair. Then he returned to her, tunneling his fingers into her hair, angling her head and gifting her with another simmering kiss.

Passion filled her, enveloped her, carried her into a place she'd never imagined, where touch ignited flame, and flame didn't burn her skin but seared her soul.

Releasing her mouth, he cupped her breasts through the fabric softened by time and washings, rubbing her nipples to hardened peaks with his thumbs.

Heat licked at her, warmth filled her, breath left her. She never imagined it could be like this, feel like this...she ached in places she never knew existed. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin. To revel in his touch, in his love.

Love they rarely admitted to or expressed. But it was the only thing that allowed them to be here, to be doing this without sanctification.

Closer...she needed to be closer and she arched into his hand, increasing the contact.

Oh, yes; oh my....

Mon Dieu....

He replaced his hand with the heat of his mouth. He worried first one nipple then the other, making her squirm. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, carried her, lifted her....

She'd never known such pleasure existed. They should have done this long ago. He stepped back and looked at her. Fire raged in his eyes, its intensity and heat scorching her, branding her, marking her as his and his alone. She had no desire for anyone else. She belonged to Robin, heart and soul, and, soon, body as well.

Taking a step away from her, he tugged off the nightshirt in a single swift motion. And he stood before her naked. Never had she seen a man without clothes. She took in his lithe lean body, orange in the flickering firelight. He was beautiful, if a man could be called that.

The hard column of his manhood captured her attention. Her breath hitched as she contemplated it. She knew where it was supposed to go, but, for the life of her, didn't know how it was supposed to fit. It hadn't seemed so large through his clothes.

Noting the direction of her gaze, he spoke gently, “No worries, Marian. It’ll fit, and I'll do my best to make it hurt as little as possible.”

She nodded. She'd wanted this after all.

“Now you...” he said, tugging at her gown.

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Thornton?”

“Will not be back for awhile.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because he thinks we are at odds...and will not imagine we are doing this...and because...” He cocked his head and slanted his eyes toward the ceiling.

Several flashes of light permeated the closed up cottage, thunder boomed and rolled in continuous rumblings, and the rain was coming down so hard that it sounded as if a million pebbles were being poured onto the thatching.

She slid off the table and, before she could give her actions a second thought, pulled the gown over her head and dropped it.

His gaze locked on her breasts. They peaked under his scrutiny, but she resisted the impulse to cover herself. When he looked back into her eyes, love and awe filled his. She wanted him to touch them again, longed to feel his hands directly on her.

He took her in his arms and she sighed at the glide of skin against skin. Then he took possession of her mouth, making her forget Thornton or thunderstorms or her innocence.

Restless hands moved upon him, up his arms, across his chest, into his hair, down his back. Ripples of pleasure flowed over her as he rubbed his hands along her arms. Before she'd realized it, he picked her up under the arms and set her on the table once more, her discarded gown providing a barrier between her bottom and the cold smooth surface.

With a fingertip, he tilted her face up and met her eyes. “Do you trust me?”

She loved him. Of course, she trusted him. She nodded. “Yes.” It was a breathless whisper.

“You know I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”

She nodded again. And then he kissed her. A deep, slow, delicious kiss that made her sigh and soar.

Robin spread her legs and took his place between them. Sliding a hand up her thigh, he brushed the edge of her nether curls.

She gasped and looked at him with wide wild eyes.

“Sh, shh...it’s okay,” he promised. She was safe in his hands. Her body as well as her heart. He'd never quite forgive himself for leaving her in the first place. He delved through the hair and slid a finger into her folds, already wet with want. He swallowed her gasp and increased the pressure of the gentle rhythmic strokes.

Mindless, breathless moans escaped her as he kept up his intimate caresses. She moved against him. Frantic, wet kisses replaced the long lingering ones as her arousal increased. Her reactions pleased him and his erection throbbed with readiness. The urge to plunge himself into her tight, wet heat was strong. Pulling his hand away, he positioned his erection at her opening. He hissed at the pleasure-pain and held himself still until the force of his need receded just a bit.

She broke their connection at the lips and gazed at him with wide, passion-filled eyes. “Is this it, then?”

She was beautiful and perfect. Passionate and strong. Aroused and ready.

Nodding, he pressed his mouth to hers, nibbling her lips. He pushed into her, but encountered slight resistance. “Relax,” he murmured. “It'll hurt much less, I promise.”

She nodded and took a deep breath.

He nudged against her again, sliding the head of his erection up and down along her folds, pressing in slightly and pulling out.

He finally felt the tension leave her, but he continued his actions for a bit longer, until her breath came in shallow pants once more. And then, with a slow assured movement, Robin thrust into her and took her maidenhood.

Marian gasped and stilled, as did Robin. The slight prickling gave way to a feeling of fullness. She was no longer a maid but a woman. Love and joy welled within her, and she thought she might cry from the sheer enormity of it all.

“I'm sorry, Marian. That is the worst of it, I promise.”

She nodded, pulling his mouth to hers once more and placing his hand on her breast. With an unhurried motion, he withdrew, and she held her breath. He slid back into her with only the slightest discomfort resulting. As he continued, the vague unpleasantness transformed into waves of silken delight.

He made love to her mouth even as he made love her body. And with whispered words of love and encouragement, he drove into her with long smooth strokes.

Tendrils of pleasure coiled within her, snaking from her toes to her breasts and back to the place of their joining. Her breathing shallowed as she neared something. What she did not know, but it was just there if only she could reach it. She couldn't help the sounds of passion, and her own breathless sounds mixed with Robin's and fueled her rising bliss.

Robin's actions became less measured and more erratic and more forceful, too. His increasingly hard thrusts only heightened the feeling of reckless abandon, and she welcomed the fierceness of his actions. She soared higher.

A moment later, she rolled backward onto the table, and Robin admired the beautiful expanse of her upper body laid out before him. Her fingers curled around the edge of the tabletop and her breasts bobbed with each stroke. She hitched her legs up and rested her feet on the edge of the table, opening herself completely to him. He almost lost it then, but she wasn't quite there, and he wanted them to come together. He gripped the flare of her hips where they curved into her legs to keep their connection snug, his thumbs caressing the flesh of her hips.

“Marian...Marian...Marian....” he chanted in time with his movements.

She was close, so close... her head rolled back and forth, back arching. Incoherent whimpers and words escaped her, her hands clasped onto his. Her cries grew louder until she cried out his name. “Robin!” Her body convulsed and contracted around his, provoking his own climax.

With a grunt and a forceful parry, he spilled himself into her. He remained still for only a few seconds and then began to pump gently as the waves of her release faded and his erection softened and slipped from her body.

She lay sprawled before him, breathing heavily. She sought his gaze, a flush on her face, eyes soft and dazed, and a tender smile playing on her lips.

“Marian, you are so beautiful....”

A full-fledged smile broke out across her face like the sun cresting the horizon, but her blush deepened.

He held out his hands to her and, when she placed hers in his, pulled her to a sitting position.

“Do not be embarrassed, my love....” He cupped her jaw and pressed a light kiss to her mouth. “You are wonderful.”

“I am cold, now, too.”

Robin chuckled. “Of course.”

He helped her from the table and they both donned their gowns. He pulled her close. “That was amazing, Marian. You know that I am yours forever. I do love you.”

A tremulous smile appeared and tears slipped down her cheeks. “I-I love you, too.”

“Thornton will be along soon.”

“How do you know?”

“The rain has stopped and, if I am not mistaken, the sun is coming out.” He moved to the larder. “Sit.”

“Why?” she asked, but did as he instructed.

He returned a moment later with a couple of goblets and crumbles of bread and cheese on a small wooden serving platter. He grabbed the pitcher from the chair and sat down, his back to the door. He poured them each a splash of the ale.

A light knocking sounded at the door.

Robin slid a hand across the table and laced their fingers together. With the other, he raised his goblet.

She smiled and called, “Come in.”

Thornton entered, the day bright behind him, and took in the scene before a small smile graced his craggy features. “Milord, milady....”

“Thornton, this is some fine ale,” Robin said, arching a brow at her and taking a drink.

“Indeed, milord, it is from your father's stock. There are a couple of casks we have hidden away and only tap upon occasion.”

“Ah, well, that would explain it. Many thanks for your gracious hospitality.”

“Yes, thank you,” Marian added. “It was much appreciated. Perhaps our clothes are dry enough, now. Then at least I can get home to Knighton.”

~*~

The following morning, Much arrived back in the camp first, much to Robin's surprise, with a far-away look and a private smile. “And how is the lovely Eve?” Robin asked.

“She is lovely and beautiful and I think I love her,” Much gushed.

Robin laughed. “That’s wonderful, Much. I am glad you enjoyed your holiday.”

“And, you, Robin? How is Lady Marian?”

Robin shrugged. “Marian is Marian. And she never ceases to amaze me.”

“In what way?”

Robin smiled and said, “I don't kiss and tell.”

Much eyes widened and his lips flapped as if to say something.

Within minutes, Will, Djaq, John, and Allan had returned as well. They all talked and laughed as they shared snippets of their adventures while apart.

John had indeed found his son. Allan had doubled his money, much to his delight. And Djaq and Will had obviously spent some quality time together if the heated glances and shy smiles were anything to go by. Much was definitely in love. And Robin felt much like Much―happy, refreshed, and satisfied―in more ways than one.

This was his best plan ever.

**~ Fin ~**


End file.
